


Frosted Graham Crackers

by Devereauxs_Disease



Category: Hannibal (TV)
Genre: Hannibal offers a few lessons, Improper use of frosting, M/M, Will tries his hand at baking, it doesn't go well
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-08-26
Updated: 2017-08-26
Packaged: 2018-12-20 06:09:00
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,499
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11914812
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Devereauxs_Disease/pseuds/Devereauxs_Disease
Summary: Will bakes a surprise treat for his anniversary with Hannibal. He can't get the frosting quite right. Hannibal offers to show him the best use for frosting. It...doesn't end up on the cupcakes.





	Frosted Graham Crackers

**Author's Note:**

  * For [hesterbyrde](https://archiveofourown.org/users/hesterbyrde/gifts).



> This is a RIDICULOUSLY late piece of birthday fic for Hesterbyrde, who prompted me with:  
>  _I would love a bit of birthday Hannibal fic-nonsense! I prompt with something somewhat appropriate... dessert! Something to do with cake, or cupcakes, or ice cream, or eating frosting with a spoon. Whatever pairing/setting/mood you'd like! Thank you so much! You're the absolute sweetest. ❤_  
>  Happy birthday, like a year late, I hope you enjoy!

          Hannibal smiled at the muttered cursing he heard coming from the kitchen. Will had shooed him away, promising to make something delicious for their anniversary. Hannibal had been skeptical but acquiesced after a few kisses and a promise that there would absolutely be no flour on the ceiling like last time.

          “Will?”

          “Don’t come in h-” Will sighed and slammed something down. Hannibal frowned, thinking of his counters. “Fuck it, come in here.”

          “A very tempting offer,” Hannibal mused, winking as Will turned to glower at him. “What seems to be the culinary plight?”

          “This.” Will held up a cupcake, smeared with a light orange frosting filled with pock marks and bits of torn cake.

          “Oh my.” Hannibal turned to Murphy with a stern look at the hound. “Bad dog! You know better than to steal food. Daddy and I are quite disappointed in you!”

          Murphy cocked his head and wagged his tail. Will told him that was the mongrel’s listening expression, but Hannibal had his doubts that the creature could do anything beyond drool excessively.

          Will laughed. “That wasn’t Murph, it was me.”

          Hannibal squinted. “Oh. Well... it’s lovely, really. I didn’t see it in the proper light.”

          Hannibal grabbed Will’s wrist, lofting the cupcake closer the hanging fixture above them.

          “Ah yes, I see.” Hannibal nodded, face solemn. “Rustic and beautiful. Thank you, Will.”

          “You’re a fucking liar.” Will snatched back his hand. He moved to peck Hannibal on the nose. “But a sweet one. I just wanted to make them pretty and these look like the fucking dog got them.”

          “What, uh…what were they meant to be?”

          Will rolled his eyes, but smiled. “Allspice cupcakes filled with sanguinaccio and frosted with orange buttercream.”

          “Sanguinaccio?” Hannibal smiled, carefully picking up an unfrosted cupcake and tasting the dark chocolate center. Hannibal considered the chocolate and blood rolling over his palate before looking at Will with shining eyes. “Whose blood did you use, Will?”

          Will pulled up the sleeve of his Henley, revealing a Band-Aid at the join in his arm.

          “Happy anniversary,” he whispered.

          “Oh, my love,” Hannibal sat down the cupcake like it was a precious object, taking Will into his arms. “You spoil me.”

          “No,” Will craned his neck offering Hannibal an expanse of neck to nibble. “I’ve ruined your treat by fucking up the frosting. It looks awful.”

          “I would gladly eat these from the floor.” Hannibal murmured into Will’s skin.

          “I know you would,” Will laughed. “Hell, I could probably toss them to Murphy and watch you two fight over them. But the point, you idiot, was to make them beautiful. Make them refined for the eye as well as the palate.”

          Hannibal pulled back with a smile. “I could show you how to make the best use of your frosting. A few pastry bags and some practice and they will be as beautiful as your gesture.”

          “Sort of defeats the purpose of the present, doesn’t it? If you have to show me how to do it?”

          “What greater present is there than spending time in your company?” Hannibal ran a finger along the scar embedded in Will’s cheek.

          “OH GOD!” Will groaned, shoving at Hannibal. “I can’t fucking believe you. I want a divorce.”

          Hannibal bit into Will’s neck with a bit more force, causing the man in his arms to melt into him. “Before you leave me, allow me to show you the proper way to frost a confection.”

          “Fine,” Will said with a put-upon sigh. “I’ll endure, for my next spouse.”

          Hannibal released Will, slapping his ass as he pushed him out of the kitchen. “Give me 20 minutes to prepare the kitchen, then come back, awful boy.”

* * *

 

          Will wandered back into the kitchen with a smirk. The lights were dimmed and the counters covered in dozens of candles. He found Hannibal in a neat apron, shirt sleeves rolled up, carefully dividing the orange buttercream into five pastry bags.

          “So, my first mistake was not trying to burn the kitchen down, clearly,” Will nodded at the candles.

          Hannibal turned and smiled gesturing to the clear breakfast bar. “The key is to have a clean work surface and an idea of the design you want.”

          Will pursed his lips, deep in thought. “My aesthetic is…not shit? Yeah, free of shit. That’s what I’m going for.”

          Hannibal raised an eyebrow. “I anticipated your…charming answer, so I’ve prepared a few pastry bags with different tips so we may explore piping techniques and determine a strategy.”

          “Oh thank god, I was afraid this would only take a few minutes.” Will sighed. “Let’s get this over with, where are the cupcakes?”

          “You can’t learn to pipe on the cupcakes, Will.” Hannibal spoke to him as if he were a small child.

          “Ok, then what are we u-”

          Hannibal’s hand snapped forward, snatching at Will’s curls and dragging him onto the breakfast bar. Before Will could protest, his shirt was ripped open and Hannibal was gone.

          “You could have warned me! I liked this shirt!” Will yelled at Hannibal’s retreating back.

          The cannibal returned with a pillow from the living room, propping up Will’s head before bringing over the piping bags. “Do you have a clear view of the work area? May we commence?”

          “You’re so fucking weird,” Will said with a smile. “Can’t you just grab my ass and drag me to the bedroom like a normal person?”

          Hannibal pointedly ignored Will, selecting the first pastry bag from the line. “I believe we should start simply, this is a 1M Tip and we’ll be making a simple swirl.”

          Hannibal moved the pastry bag over Will’s left nipple, the empath caught his hand before Hannibal could begin the design.

          “Hannibal?” Will’s eyes were filled with worry, he bit his lip.

          “Yes?” The doctor’s brow furrowed with concern.

          “Just the tip.”

          Will started cackling. 

          Hannibal sighed at the burst of laughter that assaulted him. “I may have overestimated your learning abilities.”

          He turned away from Will, only to be pulled back. He resisted, but didn’t step away, content to pout within arm’s reach.

          “Who thought you’d be so sensitive over a pun?” Will sat up and shimmied out of his shirt. When Hannibal made no move back to him, Will smirked and shimmied out of his pants and boxers. “Alright, professor, I’ve prepped the canvass and I’m ready to learn.”

          Hannibal rolled his eyes, but stepped closer.  He picked up the first pastry bag and pressed it to Will’s nipple. The empath shuddered slightly at the cool metal against his skin. “As I was saying, this is a 1M Tip, suitable for a simple swirl. You’ve likely seen this design on commercially sold cupcakes.”

          Hannibal piped a dollop of icing onto the center of Will’s nipple, swirling the tip as he built a tall spiral.

          “Classic, basic, but aesthetically rather uninteresting,” Hannibal continued to pipe swirls along Will’s chest, heading toward Will’s other nipple.

          Will’s breathing became faster, watching as Hannibal trapped his tongue between his teeth in concentration. Will could feel his cock filling as Hannibal decorated his chest. A sharp pinch made him gasp. Will tilted his head to find that Hannibal had jabbed him with the pastry bag.  

          “Pay attention, and please be still.” Hannibal’s scolding tone made Will’s cheeks flush. He felt caught and chastened, and the idea made his cock swell faster. Hannibal glanced down at Will’s twitching cock, then smirked to himself as grabbed the next bag.

          “H-Hannibal,” Will tried to roll his hips, but was caught with a firm hand.

          “Please refrain from asking questions until the lesson is over.” Hannibal sounded stern, but his eyes danced. He held up the new pastry bag. “This is Tip 16, used for creating zigzag patterns. It offers a chance for a bit of a free-form design.”

          Hannibal pressed the tip to Will’s sternum, creating a braided, woven pattern. Will squirmed, trying to get away from the icing and force Hannibal’s attention. Finally, he grabbed Hannibal’s hand.   

          In a flash, Hannibal was over him, pastry bag abandoned, pinning Will’s arms above his head.

          “Do. Not. Interrupt. Me.”

          Will’s breath caught, he tried to lean up and catch Hannibal’s lips, but the doctor dodged.

          “Don’t distract me, either.” He released Will’s arms. “If you move again, Will, the lesson is over. Do you understand?”

          Will nodded, his breath labored. Hannibal studied the intricate zigzags on Will’s stomach, running a finger through them and watching the flesh beneath prickle with goosebumps. He swirled his finger again, pulling a whimper from Will.

          Sucking his finger, Hannibal looked lost in thought. “No, of course, you’re right. Though deceptively simple, the zigzag pattern must be done with a deft hand to look appropriately refined.”

          Picking up the next pastry bag, Hannibal leaned over Will’s hips. “Perhaps something simple? A tasteful primrose?”

          Hannibal positioned himself deftly, his forearm resting in the valley between Will’s hip and cock.

          “I know this is a somewhat awkward angle for you, but please bear with me,” Hannibal instructed, voice all business. “To properly do a primrose, one must use two bags. The first, in my hand, is fitted with Tip 104. As you can see, it’s a simple curving motion to create the petals. Keep the base of the petal narrow and with a flick of your wrist allow the icing to widen as you roll the pastry bag.”

          Each small movement brushed Hannibal’s shirt and wrist against Will’s cock. He threw his head back, trying to keep himself from moving as Hannibal glanced against him.

          “Hmmmm,” Will could already hear the amusement in Hannibal’s voice. It sent a chill through him. “Typically, when piping a primrose, one rotates the canvas. But I think in this instance, for convenience sake, I believe I should be the one to move, don’t you?”

          Hannibal took a few long strides around the breakfast bar before parting Will’s legs and moving between them. He rested his arm just above Will’s cock now, bending over to breathe on the leaking tip as he carefully piped another petal. Will moaned, biting his lip to keep from thrusting toward Hannibal’s mouth.

          Hannibal hummed. Will could feel the vibrations of it in his skin. He moaned again, pressing up just slightly. Hannibal paused, his forearm still resting on the soft flesh above Will’s dick. “Yes, I can see your criticism, a primrose is a bit juvenile looking, isn’t it?”

          Tapping his fingers, Hannibal leaned forward as if to inspect his work. His stubble glanced along the tip of Will’s cock, the whisper of a touch making Will shudder.

          “You have a point.” Hannibal said, angling his head and scraping against Will again. “Perhaps a different, more mature flower?”

          The muscles in Will’s jaw clenched painfully as he tried not to move. He was going to kill Hannibal – the second he was allowed to come.

          Hannibal picked up the next pastry bag, holding it before Will’s eyes. “Tip 81 creates my favorite design, the dahlia. You know, Will, like the blooms in the study?”

          Will nodded, trying to breathe. Hannibal settled back between Will’s splayed legs.

          “When piping a flower as intricate as the dahlia, it helps to have a tapered surface,” Hannibal glanced down at Will’s cock, then back at Will. Delicately, Hannibal grabbed Will’s shaft with his thumb and index finger. “This should do nicely, I think. Now, as I was saying, to start the dahlia, you’ll want to pipe three petals in the center of your surface.”

          Hannibal bent down, his breath ghosting over the head of Will’s cock. He piped three delicate petals over Will’s slit, making the empath shake. Hannibal looked up, raising an eyebrow in warning. Will clutched at his hair and tried to steady his breathing.

          “The next steps are simply to continue piping petals until you reach the fullness you’d like.” Hannibal went back to his task, mouth inches from Will’s cock as he carefully pipped more icing onto it. The sensation was too much, Will rolled his hips in defiance, seeking any sort of sensation from the feather light grip Hannibal had on him. The movement caused Hannibal to smear icing across the design.

          Will froze.

          Hannibal frowned at the ruined flower and stood. He glared at Will before carefully setting down the bag. Hannibal leaned forward with a disappointed sigh.

          “Well, I suppose I’ll have to clean my work surface and start again.” Hannibal leaned down and swiped his tongue through the frosting. Will keened. Hannibal delicately lapped at the tip of Will’s cock, carefully removing every icing petal.

          His task complete, Hannibal looked up at Will, lips resting on the spongey head of Will’s dick.

          Hannibal hummed thoughtfully. “Perhaps I should thoroughly wash the area, what do you think?”

          Before Will could make a noise, Hannibal licked a long stripe up Will’s dick. Will moaned, writhing as Hannibal took him into his mouth and began bobbing. The warm wet heat of Hannibal’s mouth was driving Will mad, clever tongue flicking Will’s frenulum on each pass.

          Will started thrusting into Hannibal’s mouth, lost to the sensations around him. Hannibal gripped Will’s hips, steadying the empath and smearing icing with his thumb. Will moved to grip Hannibal’s head, smearing frosting into the silky strands of hair. He could feel his balls drawing tight and knew it wouldn’t be long before he came.

          “H-Han please!”

          Hannibal dragged his sharp teeth along Will’s shaft. The scratch was enough to pull Will over the edge. He came, shuddering and clawing as Hannibal worked him through his orgasm.

          When Hannibal finally released him, he licked the frosting off his hand and smiled up at Will. “Now that the surface is clean, shall we try again?”

          Will grabbed Hannibal’s face, dragging him into a kiss. Will licked the sugar and come from Hannibal’s mouth. When he pulled away, Will laughed. “Well, shit, now there’s no more buttercream for the cupcakes.”

          “I can teach you how to make more.” Hannibal pressed a kiss into Will’s scarred cheek. “You seemed to quite enjoy my last lesson.”

          “Hell no.” Will stuck his finger in Hannibal’s face. “Christ only knows what you’d do to me with a hand mixer.”

          Hannibal simply smiled, waggling his eyebrows. Will grabbed at the frosting smeared down his torso and smacked it onto Hannibal’s face.

* * *

 

          “And what are these?” Hannibal’s voice sounded innocent, which immediately made Will glare at him with suspicion. They had been in the coffee shop for 5 minutes and already Will desperately wanted to leave. Hannibal blinked placidly, pointing at a graham cracker dipped in chocolate. The barista, sensing a sale, offered a bright smile.

          “Oh, they’re frosted graham crackers.” The girl said. “They’re absolutely delicious!”

          “They are,” Hannibal agreed, turning to smile at Will. “but I prefer mine homemade.”

          Will felt the flames licking up his cheeks as the barista offered them both a confused smile.

          “Just pay for the goddamn coffee,” He muttered, frowning when Hannibal winked at him.


End file.
